The metaphor of us being unique like snowflakes always made me think of how fitting it truly is. Just how the intricate patterns of each snowflake is a work of wonder, our individual minds and souls are no less riveting. This beauty however is lost in the sea of identically unique snowflakes, leaving it to be remarkably ordinary. We detest being ordinary. We so strongly believe the notion that there is no reason for our existence if not to be extraordinary that the idea of being just ordinary repels us. However the idea has it’s ways of creeping in. During the comfort of being relatable to the people around you comes an irksome sense of conformity. The archetypal fears and values and needs and desires we see in everyone in our paths slowly melts away bits of us which we thought were special and replaces them with the rigid coat of normality. By the time we get to adulthood we are so completely covered by this rigid coat that only someone with the patience to chisel out the outer layer can see the details that made us unique in the first place. All we hope for in the end is that we are able to surround ourselves with people with whom we can share this patience with and discover each other before the sun comes out again and we start to melt away.

 

These are Β just those pointless thoughts anyways πŸ™‚

 

 

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